Ico: A Fairy Tale
by PeterEliot
Summary: My tribute to the most beautiful video game ever made. This work is COMPLETE. Your reviews are most appreciated. I recommend that you enlarge the font to a comfortable size to read.


I C O  
A Fairy Tale   
  
  
  
  
-How It Began-   
  
  
  
Some centuries ago in a land no longer known by name there lived a boy deep in the  
mountains. Ico was his name. If he had a surname or a middle name they are not known  
to us, for no one ever called him anything else. It did not occur to him until he was  
nearly grown up that this was not a normal state of affairs. And someone who knew the  
boy personally would assure you that there was nothing normal about him. He was a  
rather peculiar child. Now of course every child is peculiar to himself and his  
nature. But while some youngsters display their natural distinctions by the  
possession of a notable intelligence, or a notable brainlessness, or a sweet singing  
voice, or a tendency towards ill temper, or an inexplicable hostility to eating  
cabbages and so on, Ico came into this world with a pair of horns budding from his  
infant head.

Yes, horns--the very sort you would expect on a bull or a goat. Now a mother whose  
child sported some unpleasant quirk--say an oddly shaped nose or a most obstinate  
penchant for chewing absolutely everything he came in contact with--might have  
comforted herself that children elsewhere shared a similar vein of shortcomings. But  
Ico's parents could not do this. For they knew of no other horned boys or girls--not  
even among Ico's own siblings, and he had siblings older and younger. Why was he born  
with these anomalies when none other did? Ico's father and mother could not answer.  
No one could. And so Ico became a living mystery, something no one was quite sure  
about. Other children were usually introduced to new acquaintances as 'Will, the son  
of Samuel' or 'Miriam, the baker's youngest' and so on. Ico's siblings were no  
different. But Ico himself was always Ico, and never more or less in any capacity  
whatever. He was even so registered in the town's record of births, without further  
elaboration as to his pedigree. You will grant it as no surprise, then, when I  
reiterate that his rude given name is all that we know this remarkable child by in our  
time.

Ico spent his first twelve years with his family, but he might as well have lodged in  
a stranger's house. From childhood he grew accustomed to spending time in his own  
solitary society. It was some years before the child realized, with a little  
surprise, that other people seemed to mingle with one another considerably. The  
knowledge changed little, though it did lead him by and by to notice other things. He  
noticed that people's eyes followed him as he went about, almost as if they were  
looking for something on him. What they might be looking for he could not fathom. It  
might have been for a tail on his backside, perhaps, to accompany the horns. And he  
noticed the distraught gaze that his parents often directed at him. In time he came  
to dismiss these things. That is, he accepted them as fundamentals of life, fixed and  
unalterable.

Not long after Ico saw, with little celebration, his twelfth birthday he received a  
summon from his father. One look at the father's face told him there was a trouble  
afoot, for it was bleak and stern and full of regret all at once. His mother sobbed  
behind her husband. The boy wondered if he had done something wrong and was about to  
be punished. His father then spoke, and asked him if he was a good boy. He replied  
that he was. The father asked him if he would be obedient. He replied he would be.  
The father asked him if he should be brave enough to forget his welfare for all's  
sake. More than a little befuddled, the boy nonetheless said that he should be that  
if he were required. His father nodded gravely and told him to go outside; there was  
someone to see him. His mother dropped a tearful and unwonted kiss on his brow. In  
great confusion Ico walked out to the yard, where he found a band of armed horsemen  
waiting. A rider in a long mask like that of an executioner asked him his name. When  
he gave it, the stranger shackled him and placed him upon a horse, and the band rode  
out of the village with the boy in custody.

For two days and two nights the horsemen journeyed. They rode through the mountains,  
crossed streams, took a ferry down a winding river, and rode some more after  
disembarking. They brought Ico to a distant seaside country quite foreign to him.  
There, just off a crescent bay, stood a lofty castle which commanded a tall  
cliff-faced island for its foundation. The men put the young prisoner in a boat and  
rowed to the isle, whose cavern opened into the castle that sat upon it. Entrance to  
the castle was guarded by a pair of giant statues for a gate. Unlike most gates  
whose function is to open and grant entry, this statue-gate stood squarely in the way  
and did not seem inclined to budge. But the horsemen had procured a sword forged by  
fairies. When they unsheathed it before the gate, the statues parted. The horsemen  
took Ico into a vast gray chamber full of stone caskets. They deposited him in one  
such casket, closed shut the lid, and left him there abandoned.   
  
  
  
- I -   
  
  
  
In the black bowel of the cell Ico contemplated his fate. He tried to open the lid,  
but his hands were trapped under it. He pushed his weight against the confines. The  
masonry below had grown brittle with age, and it cracked when the casket shook. The  
casket toppled and fell upon the stone floor, bursting open, and out tumbled Ico.

The boy looked about the chamber in wonder, for it was very magnificent and very  
gloomy. Rows upon rows of stone prisons surrounded him, looking strangely like faces.  
Through the slits that were cut into the lids he peeped into some of them. The cells  
were mostly empty. But some contained faded pieces of fabric that might once have  
been a shirt or breeches. Others had shoes too small to fit a grown-up's feet. Then  
Ico grew frightened, and anxious to leave the place as quickly as possible. There was  
a door on one side of the chamber, but curiously it wasn't the one through which he  
had come in; that door had vanished. He went in. He was presently at the bottom of a  
soaring tower.

Now the castle was an enchanted one, and barred to mortals. Ico had entered it  
against his wishes, but now he saw that he couldn't leave of his own accord, either.  
The only way out of the tower was through a gate that looked exactly like the one the  
horsemen had opened with the fairy sword. Ico had no fairy sword and was therefore  
doomed. He bemoaned his curse: he had been granted reprieve from cruel entombment  
only to find himself in what amounted to a somewhat larger coffin.

The lad did not languish for long; he needed to figure another path out. He climbed  
the staircase that spiraled to the ceiling of the tower, where the sun streaked in  
through tall windows. Upon reaching the peak of the staircase, and despairing that it  
provided no exit other than the openings at a plunging height, Ico made a jolting  
discovery. From the ceiling hung a great cage of iron, and inside was the crouching  
figure of a child in white. Her face was buried in the arms that hugged herself.

'Hello,' Ico called out.

There came no reply.

'Hello. Why are you locked up like that?' asked he again.

She betrayed no sign that she had heard him beyond a limp tilting of her head in his  
direction. Ico observed that the chain that held the cage could be lowered. This he  
did because the girl appeared most unhappy where she was. He raced the cage down the  
stairs as it descended. It met the floor with a dull clunk, and the girl stepped out.  
Her feet were naked and, like the rest of her, fair to the point of ghostly pallor.  
For the longest moment the children regarded each other in silence. The girl said  
something in a soft-spoken tongue, but Ico could not understand it.

'Men brought me here to be abandoned,' said Ico. 'Did they do the same to you?'

She did not answer--she did not understand his speech either--and instead came and  
looked closely into his face with undisguised curiosity. Ico got nervous, though he  
was accustomed to being stared at. Her gaze was clear and unsettlingly honest.

Ico thought he should ask her if she knew a way out of the fortress. But there  
suddenly formed, at a dark corner of the floor, a pool of black shadow--and from it  
emerged a beast with glowing eyes. It was unlike any beasts in nature and horrendous  
to behold. Its body seemed made of a shadow that had gained substance. Trudging to  
the stunned children, the demon grasped the girl and was about to drag her into the  
pool whence it had risen. Ico lunged at the demon and pushed it off its feet. It  
released its prey and this time went for the boy. Picking up a wooden rod from the  
floor, he fought the enemy savagely. Each time he struck a blow, bits of the beast's  
smoky flesh went flying like so much soot! At last it fell, and came apart in a plume  
of black vapor as a fire that had burned itself out. Then it was nowhere to be seen.

'What was that creature that came after you?' Ico asked the girl, who returned no  
answer. 'It is too dangerous for us here. We must get out,' he declared.

Yet what were they to do? The statues blocked the only exit still, and they were as  
immovable as ever. But, amazingly enough, when the girl Ico had rescued stood before  
the statues they parted and allowed them passage. Ico and his new companion left the  
tower together. And somewhere in the vastness of the castle a bell rang out and  
resounded across its manifold walls. It was the end of the first hour.   
  
  
  
- II -   
  
  
  
Crossing a small bridge that led away from the tower, Ico was dismayed to learn they  
were by no means out of danger. Instead they now faced the main keep before them.  
They would have to make their way through a mighty array of towers, halls and wards if  
they meant to take leave of the citadel altogether. Now this castle was the most  
curious thing you ever saw. It had a great many walls but not nearly as many doors.  
It made you go a great distance on foot to make only a small progress, so that  
oftentimes you had to cross the same ground several times like one without any sense  
of direction in order to reach a place that was all along plainly in your sight. It  
was as if someone had built the castle solely to beguile the poor devils who should  
commit the mistake of stepping in. Ico turned to his companion frequently, hoping  
that by virtue of her seniority of captivity she had better knowledge of the place  
than he did. But there she offered little help. If anything she seemed even more  
misplaced than he. She was as graceful and disoriented as a deer lost in an alien  
forest. She exhibited the keenest interest in the most mundane things like birds and  
flowers, and would run to observe the specimens they came across. One would have  
thought she had never seen them all her life. Indeed one would have thought she had  
lived in that cage of hers all her life.

All the same Ico soon realized that it was the girl's presence that made any hope for  
escape even distantly thinkable. For time and again they encountered the statues that  
guarded the passageway from one chamber to the next. And when the girl approached  
them they would make way as faithfully as sentries obeying their mistress. Ico was  
endlessly intrigued. Who was she that she was able to do this? He wanted to ask her,  
but their differing tongues prevented him.

The girl's unknown speech and ability were hardly all that was strange about her. A  
more delicate creature one could not imagine, and yet she trod the coarsest of soils  
barefooted without complaints. She was timid and easily frightened--but unlike her  
excitable companion she was unaffected before the daunting spectacles the castle  
presented. She was equally unconcerned with any and all knowledge of what grown-ups  
call manner. Yet seeing that fair spectral figure frolic and glide about in the green  
courtyards you might have thought her regal, and not the frail captive damsel in rags  
she was. She was taller than Ico and by all appearances older but she accepted the  
boy's lead with a faith that seemed in equal parts trusting and careless. All the  
more confusion for him.

The pair proceeded into the heart of the fortress. The statue-gates were by far the   
most obliging part of it. All the rest seemed resolved to hamper their progress. The  
castle was in disrepair, falling apart in many places, and overrun by wild vegetation.  
Sometimes this made it easier for the children to move about, but usually it meant   
more obstacles to clear. The sorry state of the place was really a small wonder, for   
it was dreadfully deserted. All that spacious grandeur was afforded for no one's   
enjoyment; it had but two lost children to occupy its magnificence. That is of course  
unless one counted the castle's demonic populace. The children did not go far before   
confronting more of that sinister brood. Soundlessly the wraiths rose from the   
shadows, their eyes blazing and cold. They came in pairs and trios, and they came in   
the shapes of men and beasts legged and winged. Ico saw that they needed protection   
and he was the only one that could furnish it. In one hand he clutched the rod. The   
other held the girl's own. Her fingers felt impossibly smooth in his rough ones, and   
he was a tad self-conscious. That was soon forgotten in their plight. They advanced   
through and around collapsed bridges, demolished corridors and chambers with sunken   
floors, dispatching the dark specters that greeted them on the way. 

By and by the bell struck again, and the second hour had ended.   
  
  
  
- III -   
  
  
  
The third hour began with a vicious battle. As soon as Ico and his companion set foot  
in a broad sunlit courtyard a legion of shadowy demons were upon them. He warded them  
off with all his might, for he reasoned that this open assault was evidence that they   
were near freedom.

But there were so many of them! The pair was surrounded, and amidst the chaotic swarm  
of shadows Ico was dealt a fierce blow and knocked off his feet. When he got up the  
creatures had all but hauled the struggling girl into the black pool again. He rushed  
to her, hacking away at the swarm, and pulled her out by hand. The creatures were as   
persistent as he. They clawed at him, trying to separate the children. More than   
once they nearly succeeded. More than once he had to keep his frightened friend out   
of the infernal pit. Then he understood something all of a sudden. 

'They are trying to knock me down,' he thought, 'but they are trying to take her.'

'We must get you out of here!' he cried, grabbing her wrist and breaking into a   
sprint. The wraiths gave pursuit as far as the statue-door at the far end of the   
courtyard. But to the children's surprise and relief they were unwilling to cross the  
doorway. Emerging from the door they stood before an open gate of colossal   
proportion. It was the castle's front entryway.

'Look! We can leave now,' Ico said. He was wearied from the fight but triumphant--  
and so was caught rather off-guard when the twin doors began to close seemingly of   
their own volition. 'Come!' he cried, pulling the girl along.

They darted for the gate, which was already nearly shut. The girl's hand slipped   
away from Ico's; she fell. He turned to help her back onto her feet but stopped   
short, thunderstruck. There stood behind the fallen figure of the girl a tall woman   
draped in royal black.

The stranger's face was even paler than that of the girl. And though beautiful it was  
stern with displeasure. She spoke briefly to the younger woman in their speech. Then   
she turned her piercing eyes upon the boy.

'So you are the one prowling about with my Yorda,' she declared with great contempt.  
'Do you know who this child is?' 

Ico regarded his companion who had only partly raised herself where she fell. She  
remained quiet, gazing away from the stranger. She looked as unhappy as she had in   
the iron cage.

'She is my sole beloved daughter,' continued the stranger. 'A princess who belongs   
apart from your lowly breed. Waste no more of your time, boy, and leave her alone.   
I shall not be defied.'

With those words she disappeared. The children were alone again. Ico ran to the   
princess. She was terribly forlorn, for she had angered her mother. But she took his  
proffered hand and got up.

Ico looked for a way to open the gate. But the doors were ponderously, hopelessly   
shut. There was nothing his frail limbs could do to move them. He slumped to the   
ground against the gate, crestfallen. The princess observed his distress in silence,   
but then came over and sat next to him.

'It's useless. We will never be able to escape,' he muttered, fixing his longing gaze  
on the blue sky aloft.

The princess said a few words as if she understood his admission. Though once again   
her speech eluded his comprehension, Ico felt certain that she had spoken in friendly   
spirit. And for the first time in days, his heart was tranquil.

They were both quite weary. So they rested.   
  
  
  
- IV -   
  
  
  
They were awakened by the bell announcing the fourth hour. Ico promptly took to the   
task of finding another means of escape. He was puzzled then to see the princess   
trotting back towards the courtyard they had fled.

'Where are you going?' he called after her. 'Those creatures might be out there   
still.'

But the girl was insistent; she meant to go back the way they came. So Ico picked up  
the rod and escorted Princess Yorda to the courtyard. Sure enough the wraiths were   
patiently waiting, and they flocked to the pair at their reappearance. Shielding his  
charge, Ico battled the enemies with a renewed zeal. It took him a long and   
exhausting while but at last he vanquished them all.

The princess pointed to a handsome mausoleum at the western wall. Ico followed her  
in, wondering who might be buried there. Inside they found a great sarcophagus capped  
with a bronze image of a knight. The knight stood tall and gallant, and his hands   
rested on the hilt of his sword. But the boy found himself mostly preoccupied with   
the horns that adorned the knight's temples. The princess laid her hand on the  
dust-covered feet, and the statue opened its eyes.

'Who are you, boy?' asked the statue in Ico's tongue.

'My name is Ico,' he answered.

'Who is there with you?'

'It is Yorda.'

'How came you to be outside the crypt?'

'I escaped. We both are trying to escape the castle.'

'I have slept here many generations and seen many like you and myself brought here.  
I have not seen one leave.'

'How do you have those horns on your head?'

'In life I was born with them--long ago, when they were not taken for a curse.'

'Are they a curse?'

'She that rules this place has made them a curse and an abomination,' came the grave  
answer. 'In fear men surrender the wretched younglings as sacrifice to her.'

'There are others like me then.'

'There once were far more.'

'Sir, we can't leave because the gate is shut. Will you tell us how to open it?'

'Another may be able to help you,' replied the knight. 'A door behind me leads out of  
the tomb. Once outside, find the loftiest place in sight. There lives the bell   
ringer of the castle. He is the oldest prisoner here. He ought to know about the   
gate.'

'If he is himself a prisoner, how can he help us?'

'We are all captives, each in his own chains. Go now, young ones. Take my sword.   
You will meet more foes today.'

So Ico took the knight's brass sword and led the princess out of the mausoleum.  
Spotting in distance a strikingly tall column that stabbed at the heaven, the children  
made for it as advised. The terrain they trod turned inhospitable quickly, for they   
were now heading into the most ruinous part of the fortress. They walked along the   
very edge of the island where centuries of ocean gales had gnawed the masonry away and  
bared the craggy soil beneath. Howling winds threatened to hurl them off the   
footpath and down to certain destruction. Even here the malicious spirits relented   
not. Like vile blooms they crept up from stones and earth to molest the pair. Ico   
was most grateful for the knight's gift. It helped him make quick work of the   
creatures.

At last they were before the column. For its stupendous height it was very slim,  
almost delicate against the stoutness of its neighbors. It had no entrance; it was  
too narrow to admit anyone inside. A ladder ran its span all the way to the summit   
which was almost lost among the clouds. Together they climbed the ladder cautiously;  
he was unwilling to leave the princess by herself on the ground, and besides she did   
not want to remain behind. A bird's nest sat perched at the peak of the column. It   
was big enough to fit them both in with room to spare, but no one was there.

'This is a strange place for a bell ringer to live,' confessed Ico. 'There aren't any  
bells to ring. Suppose we came to the wrong spot?'

And immediately at the heel of his words came the deep sound of the bell, not a second  
off the hour.   
  
  
  
- V -   
  
  
  
As soon as the ringing echo faded away, the children heard weighty measured flaps in   
the air. They beheld a great white seabird flying towards them. It moved to touch on  
the nest, but squawked loudly upon perceiving the intruders.

'Halloa!' cried the bird. 'What's this? My nest has hatched a couple of goslings   
while I was away--and one of them has got horns!'

'Are you the bell ringer?' Ico asked.

'Halloa!' cried the bird again. 'And how might you know that?'

'The knight down in his tomb told us.'

'He did, did he?' said the bird as it terminated its flight. It had wings as wide as  
Ico was tall. 'Well, he's done a stupid thing. I always told him it was no use   
pitying you lot, yet the old fellow feels for his own kind. But, true, the bell   
ringer of this place I have been for five centuries past.'

'You are terribly old!'

'I am that. Just now I rang the bell down yonder for four million five hundred and   
twenty-six thousand eight hundred and nineteenth times. Now what is your business  
with me?'

'The knight told us you know how to open the gate.'

'He did, did he? Well, I've seen you more than once today, when I flew to the bell   
tower and back each hour. A busy little rascal you are--running to and fro where no   
mortal feet have disturbed peace for ages and ages. You know who that is you've got   
dragging about with you?'

'Yes,' replied he.

'Her mother isn't pleased to see what you are doing with her. Now her mother is older  
even than I am. She is the queen of the castle, and a powerful enchantress besides.  
So why should I help you against her?'

'But Yorda doesn't want to stay here.'

'Silly lass!' croaked the bird, flaring up. 'Why should she make trouble and be  
impudent to her mother when she has suffered fewer years than any amongst us? Who   
here has not born a worse prison than she?'

'That isn't true,' he said hotly. 'Her mother kept her shut in a cage.'

'And you fancy I am not myself caged, I'll be bound?' 

'But you are not.'

'Look at these wings, boy. Why haven't I used them long ago to fly away, do you  
think?'

He knew no answer to return and was quiet. Then the princess startled him with her   
first unprompted utterance since their meeting. At some length she addressed the bird  
in her tongue. Her words were gentle but unafraid, like from one with authority. The  
bird replied her in the like speech but it seemed less at ease now, and not nearly as  
snappish as before. It almost seemed reluctant to speak with her. When they had   
concluded their arguing the bird heaved a great sigh and turned back to the boy.

'The queen will not let you leave with this child. I shall take you ashore and you   
can go where you please. But let me take the girl back to her mother.'

'No,' said Ico with resolve.

'You can not save her. It will be your death to try.'

'I will not go without her.'

'Very well, then,' replied the bird in resignation. 'For the girl's sake I will tell  
you how the gate may be opened, but I can not help you beyond that. Are you certain   
you will not at least save yourself?'

'Tell me.'

'Fine! At the eastern and western tips of the isle, to either side of the keep, are  
two great houses. Each mirrors the other in form, and each is home to a key for the   
enchanted gate. Now the gate may only be unlocked at dawn or at sundown, for fire and  
light alone shall undo its bolt. You must therefore go to the west key-house and rid  
it of its coverings so that the key inside will be bared to align with the sun. You   
must hurry: there are not two hours left of daylight. Upon my word you will not   
survive nightfall within these walls.'

The bird then had the children ride upon its feet and flew them to the outer ward,  
near the main gate. Then it said that it had come as far as it would dare and bade   
them farewell. 'Never part with the lass,' the bird warned Ico as its last words.   
'On her rests all your hope, foolish as it were.' Then it flew back to the nest.

From where they were dropped off Ico and Yorda could see their next destination   
looming as a shadow. The west key-house was a square mound of stonework, overgrown   
with coarse ivy, and elevated to overlook the gate that was the aim of their endeavor.  
It had an immense window perfectly circular in shape at the very center of its facade,  
and another exactly like it on the backside as well. The children now had to cover on  
foot a long, long stretch of walkway along the battlement that would take them to the  
western extremity of the fortress. This they did gladly, for their journey was nearly  
finished. But the wall-walk didn't quite reach the key-house. It fell a good hundred  
steps short, terminating prematurely before a yawning gap high above the sea.

'This would of course be nothing to someone like the bell ringer,' said Ico, vexed.  
'It's no good for us who haven't got wings.'

Yet when the princess stepped up to the edge of the manmade bluff, what should happen  
but that a stepping stone arose from nowhere to meet her feet? And when they got on   
that stone another materialized in front of it, and another and another, until the   
children walked safely over the chasm to the key-house. At the other side they were  
met by a familiar door of statues. They yielded way before the princess, and Ico   
entered the house with her. From afar came the sound of the bell ringer punctually   
striking the sixth hour. And the boy felt compelled to murmur: 'He spoke the truth.'   
  
  
  
- VI -   
  
  
  
The key-house was big as anything else on the island though it was practically empty  
inside. A great ring of bronze, containing a carved rune of cryptic appearance, was  
fixed on the floor so that it would stand upright, directly between the twin windows  
that faced each other. The windows were not of glass but of solid wrought iron,  
shielding the interior from all daylight. The hall was only faintly lit by torches  
which curiously had burned unconsumed for years.

Beneath each window was a magnificent hearth long grown cool from disuse. Ico took   
a torch from the wall and fired the hearths. The iron windows then split open, one   
after the other--and the sun, passing low just outside the western opening, ran the   
chamber through in a majestic stream. It pierced the ring and fell upon the distant   
gate, there to brand the rune's skeletal shadow. And to Ico's unspeakable delight the  
gate began to drag itself open, slowly, almost grudgingly.

'We've done it,' he cried. 'Let us hurry to the gate, and we will leave this place.'

They hastened out of the key-house. Before they had gone many yards black wraiths   
started flowing in from all directions. On the narrow walkway there was no place to   
take shelter and no way to run but forward. So Ico charged through the foes, his grip  
firm on his companion's hand, slashing at whatever fiendish impediments in their path.

'Princess, our princess!' the fiends howled. 'Leave us not! Come with us, dearest   
child, and be restored to thy throne!'

Their calls terrified the girl. Though Ico understood not a word of their clamor   
(it was all in their tongue), he shouted back defiantly and fought them. He did not   
pause the run. At last the children arrived at the courtyard where they had earlier  
been thwarted. A loathsome dark host trailed behind them. Yorda was quite out of   
breath. So was he. But their goal was almost within reach. When they cleared the   
courtyard and stood on the last patch of ground belonging to the fortress, with   
nothing but the gaping posts of the gate before them, the wraiths as one ceased their  
pursuit. They gathered at the border of the courtyard, for they were forbidden to   
cross it, and snarled in frustration.

Together Ico and Yorda passed through the gate. A stone bridge led away from the   
castle, extending to the green shore. They were halfway across when the queen   
appeared, leaping into form like a black flame. With ease she swept the boy off the   
bridge and reclaimed her daughter. He fell to the sea and was quickly lost in the   
raging waves. And the castle's gate was drawn shut for the last time.   
  
  
  
- VII -   
  
  
  
The boy awoke shivering on the eastern bank of the isle. The heaven was dark and   
livid, and rain was beating down mercilessly on the creation. He collected himself   
and surveyed his surroundings. He could not see much, for besides the storm it was   
now deep into the night. But he discerned the hulking form of the east key-house   
looming ahead. He made his way over, struggling with rain and winds and violent waves  
breaking against the jagged boulders. Like the rest of the castle the key-house sat   
atop the rocky bulwark of the isle. The princess was no longer with him to make a   
handy passageway, so he climbed the bluff, slippery from rain, with great effort. It  
was some nerve-wracking hours later that he pulled himself onto the top. The stone   
sentries of the key-house would not let him pass. So he went around to the spot where  
ivy branches were the thickest and climbed the wall by that means. Locating an arrow  
hole he squeezed himself into the hall. 

He found the inside as dark, gloomy and empty as the other key-house had been. A   
similar ring stood between the opposing iron windows. Once again he torched the   
hearths. But the windows would not part completely; the ivy had grown so dense it was  
blocking their course. He took a broken piece of a brick and cut and pried away the  
branches until his hands were raw. The windows parted, and the key was bared.   
Patiently the boy awaited the dawn, counting the hours announced with unfailing   
precision by the bell. He wondered if the bell ringer ever slept and felt pity for   
the bird.

Morning came, but with it no light. For the tempest raged still and the sun was quite  
hidden in the clouds. No ray of morning sunshine touched the rune-ring, and Ico began  
to despair. Without light the key was useless. So finally he went about the house   
and gathered all the torches, fallen beams and pieces of lumber, ivy, and anything   
else that would burn, and stacked them before the rune-ring and set them ablaze. Soon  
the key-house was in flame from within like a lit lamp in the stormy expanse of the   
ocean. The fire cast the rune's flickering shadow on the gate. The gate opened, and  
he set out without delay. He descended from the key-house and once more climbed up   
the isle to enter the keep.

The boy retraced the course that he and the princess had taken earlier. The castle   
was deathly quiet now--quieter than before, like something had frozen all that was in   
it, even the very grass and the leaves of trees. There were no more birds, no more   
chirping of insects, and no more lurking specters. He was all that moved in the   
fortress. His swift footfalls were frighteningly loud in his own ears.

Reaching the opposite end of the island, he came to the tower in which he had freed  
the princess. The bridge to the tower was no longer there. So climb he did yet   
again, down to the shore. He swam around the tower, battling the waves, until he   
discovered a hollow opening at the base of the isle. He found himself inside the   
cavern where the horsemen had taken him the day before. There on a lonely altar lay   
the fairy blade the men had used. Ico took it and unsheathed it before the statues   
guarding the underground entrance. They parted at once. He proceeded up the stairs;   
he was presently back in the very crypt where he had been abandoned. Stone cells   
lined up as a grim audience round the chamber. Another group had congregated at its  
center--shadowy wraiths, who danced a grotesque dance about the motionless form of the  
princess. She had been turned into stone!

Ico charged at the gathering, swinging the blade furiously. The power of the fairy   
weapon was such that a single blow cut down any foe it touched. The wraiths scattered  
hissing at the intruder, trying to counter the onslaught, but they were helpless   
against the sword. Resolutely he chased them down and smote them one after another.  
Then he noticed something strange. Every time he struck down a wraith a casket on the  
wall came to life and glowed. He gave his enemies, who seemed rather small compared   
to the others he had fought, a second hard look. He was aghast: each sported on its   
head horns just like his own. 

'This isn't right!' he cried, shaken. 'Fight no more! Leave us! I will not kill   
you.'

But the wraiths did not heed his warning, for their spirits were bound to their   
enslaver's will. They fought to the last of them to perish by his sword.

When all the wraiths had been destroyed the boy fell to his knees and wept long and   
bitterly. He then wiped the tears, took up the sword again and unlocked the last   
door to the great hall. The queen sat on the throne waiting.

'What have you done to her?' he demanded. 

'You are too late to do anything for her,' replied the sorceress. 'I have grown old   
and my body shall not last long. As a vessel for my spirit the child will grant me  
the power of resurrection. With my passing Yorda will be no more--and a new queen  
will take her place.'

'What have you done to the children?'

'Once my spell was strong, covering all my dominion. Now it is feeble and barely   
holds this keep. The spell required sustenance to be replenished. But all that is   
bygone,' she declared, rising to her full height. 'Hark! the hour is nigh that I   
shall be born anew. Lay down the sword, then, and leave! My daughter wishes nothing  
else for you.'

Ico lunged at the throne, sword raised high. The queen knocked him back easily, and   
with enough force to send him rolling on the floor too, but he did not let go of the   
sword. For he knew it was his only defense. She tried to turn him into stone but the  
blade repelled the magic. She tried to sweep him away with a blast of gale but the   
blade withstood it. Finally she made the blade burning hot in his hands but still he   
did not release it. Seizing the moment she withdrew her spell to prepare another   
assault, he drove the sword with all of his strength into the queen's heart. She sank  
into the throne, mortally wounded. 

'She shall never leave this castle,' gasped the queen with her final breath. Then she  
vanished in an invisible burst of such force that it flung the boy across the hall.   
For the second time in as many days he passed out.

With the queen's death the enchantment over the castle dissolved away. All that had   
been fettered to its cruel reign broke free. The spirits laid themselves to rest, for  
they were at last unbound. The stone sentries collapsed mutely at their posts. The   
bricks and the pilasters gave up their obstinacy and surrendered to decay. The   
princess revived from the spell to see the crypt crumbling to pieces around her. She  
entered the great hall and discovered her brave friend prone on the floor. She knew   
at once what he had done--knew that her mother was no more, felt it in the fiber of  
her soul that now proclaimed her the mistress of the castle. 

The princess, brimming with a power newly inherited, carried the boy to the cavern   
below. There she put him alone in a boat and released it with her grateful farewell   
to the tide. Shortly thereafter the castle caved into the ocean, never to be seen   
again.   
  
  
  
-And the Rest Of It-   
  
  
  
Ico was roused by the waves gently rocking the boat. He got up and beheld the  
blinding sun that soaked the beach in warmth. His legs were weak, and his head  
throbbed--but upon raising a hand to his temple he was astonished to learn the horns   
were there no longer. He climbed out of the boat and walked in a daze. He felt as   
though he had just woken up from a long and taxing dream. Birds trilled aloft, flying  
in circles. One of them, a plain white seagull, flew in close to drop a fat fish by   
his feet. He thought it queer though he accepted the fish gratefully. The bird   
looked oddly familiar and yet not quite. A bit too small, perhaps. Yes, entirely too  
small. 

He wandered along the beach, debating where he should head next. He came across a   
large block of metal washed up ashore. He recognized it; it was a fragment of the   
bronze knight from the castle. He picked it up but it promptly crumbled to dust in   
his palms.

He continued the walk. A glint on the ground caught his eyes. It was the fairy   
sword, half buried in the sand. When he tried to salvage it the blade cracked to bits  
like a sheet of glass. He was puzzled. It had been so sturdy before.

Still he walked. Farther down the shore he found Yorda who lay slumped on the sand.  
Soggy hair clung to her pale muddied cheeks. The water lapped at her feet, still and  
lifeless. He was afraid to touch her. For she might break apart also. But when he  
nudged her fingers they curled around his own. And she opened her eyes, blinking.

And there we leave the two children. Years were not long before men realized, to   
their enormous relief, that no more infants were born horned. In time the legacy of   
the cursed youths faded into myth, and all that survive now of their memories are a   
few tales here and there. What you have just heard is one of them.   
  
  
  
  
FIN 


End file.
